


the fact of his pulse

by bannerless (seraf)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: ( brief ), Anal Sex, Explicit Consent, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Riding, Trans Male Character, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/bannerless
Summary: ‘ g-d, your hands are good, ‘ he mutters, words made half incoherent by the way his mouth is still pressed against tim’s shoulder. tim still understands him, though - mike can almost feel him grinning, even without looking at his face.
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew/Tim Stoker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	the fact of his pulse

**Author's Note:**

> mike is trans, and terms used for him are 'cock'. front hole is mentioned once at the beginning of the fic but not by any terminology and only vaguely/briefly.

it feels like an iron tang in the back of his throat, crawling up the back of his neck and cutting his air off in all the wrong sorts of ways. and he’s shaking his head, barely having to push at tim’s wrist before he gets the message, immediately slipping the single finger out of him. ‘ you alright? ‘ he asks, brows knit together, and the concern is . . . refreshing, in how genuine it is. ‘ wanna stop? ‘

mike takes a moment to breathe, to re-evaluate himself. there’s some lingering queasiness that he can’t quite shake, though tim’s hand resting on the small of his back helps, warm and grounding. he leans forwards to rest his forehead on tim’s shoulder for a moment before turning his head, lazily pressing his lips to tim’s throat. ‘ no, ‘ he says, eventually. ‘ but i don’t think this is going to work. ‘

his teeth scrape over tim’s pulse for a moment, before pulling ( albeit somewhat reluctantly ) back, one hand reaching between them to take tim in hand for a moment, thumb rolling in a lazy circle over his head for just a moment. ‘ i want to keep going, ‘ he says, finally, arms draping back over tim’s shoulders.

to his credit, tim only looks puzzled for a second before getting it. ‘ you sure? ‘

mike nods at that, shuddering off the lingering remnants of dysphoria, grinding the heel of his palm against his own cock for a moment to bring the hot sinking of arousal back between his legs. ‘ yeah, i’m sure. ‘

* * *

he thinks his nails might have drawn blood, with how hard they’re dug into tim’s shoulderblades, forehead pressed to the juncture between his throat and shoulder, feeling the accelerated rush of his pulse. it’s not an ideal angle, thighs burning a little as he keeps his hips raised off of tim’s thighs, letting tim’s hand that isn’t resting at the small of his back, pushing him against his body, drift up the back of his thigh. mike’s skin is cold, as a rule, but the lube coating tim’s fingers, he thinks, could put that to shame - it even makes goosebumps break out over his thighs.

he leans himself forwards, resting his weight against tim entirely, taking some of the pressure off his legs. g-d, he can feel heat pooling low in his stomach. if he weren’t clinging to tim seemingly for dear life, he’d stroke himself, just to ease some of the low burn settled there.

tim’s slick finger breaches him, pressing in to the second knuckle, and mike tenses reflexively, clenching for a moment around him. ‘ i’m good, ‘ he murmurs, when tim pauses for a second, seemingly concerned about him. ‘ keep going. ‘ it’s not a familiar feeling, but it isn’t . . . bad, either, and he lets out a shuddering exhale, nails digging into the back of tim’s neck, as tim crooks his finger, gently thrusting it in and out of mike, from the point where the web between tim’s fingers nearly catches on his tailbone to almost out of him entirely, almost _idle_ in the way he spreads some of the lube around the tight clench of muscle.

‘ g-d, your hands are good, ‘ he mutters, words made half incoherent by the way his mouth is still pressed against tim’s shoulder. tim still understands him, though - mike can almost _feel_ him grinning, even without looking at his face.

‘ mike, you sound _surprised,_ ‘ he says, taking on a tone of mock indignation, clicking his tongue between his teeth, even as he draws his hand back, pushing two fingers into mike now. ‘ have i really been that disappointing? would’ve thought you’d say something by now. ‘ mike has to give tim credit - he’s too focused on the stretch of tim’s fingers pressing into him, the way they crook _just_ when he thinks he’s gathered his thoughts, to come up with any kind of smart reply.

in lieu of that, he leans up, pressing a kiss to the underside of tim’s jaw and then suddenly biting down, feeling tim shudder beneath him at the scrape of teeth. tim never thinks of these things _during,_ but mike has a tiny amount of smug satisfaction in the knowledge that tim’s going to have to find some way to cover up the already-purpling bruise there. ‘ come on, ‘ he says, and noses gently at the hollow of tim’s throat.

‘ you sure? ‘ it’s one of the _many_ times tim’s asked this question tonight, and mike’s . . . grateful, honestly.

‘ mm. ‘

‘ well. who am i to keep you waiting, ‘ tim replies, and his smile is so _easy,_ even as mike feels . . . so much more uncertain than usual. the feeling of both of his fingers sliding out of him tugs a groan out of mike’s chest, even when tim doesn’t immediately replace them with the blunt press of his cock, choosing instead to gently thumb at mike’s cock, making the muscles in his legs jump as tim kneads it briefly between his knuckles, the stimulation sending sparks down his nerves. ‘ you ready? ‘

mike pulls back enough to level something of a glare at him. not as effective as he might have hoped, given that tim’s reaction is to grin like a cat who’s got the cream. but it _is_ effective in another way - slick hand stroking himself a few times, tim finally lines himself up, hands almost _gentle_ against mike’s hips as he pushes in, almost _excruciatingly_ slowly. mike hooks one arm around the back of tim’s throat and sinks his teeth into his own wrist to muffle the sound that punches out of him, a shuddering groan of a thing that peters out into something that might have been a whine were mike’s jaw not clamped firmly down on his arm.

‘ you- _fuck,_ you’re bright red, you know, ‘ tim says with a breathless laugh, one hand coming up to cup his face. tipping his cheek into his palm, mike can _feel_ his own skin burning, the flush of it. tim is still grinning, and mike decides he _will_ change that, if only for a moment. he kisses tim’s hand where his palm rests near his face, and without warning, shifts his weight back, sinking abruptly the rest of the way down the length of him until the sharp jut of his hipbones presses against tim’s thighs.

there’s a part of him that immediately regrets it, of course - it’s been _awhile_ since he’s done this, and it feels - overwhelming. for a moment like he’s being torn apart. but it’s worth it, for the noise it punches out of tim, almost close to a shout, hands turned white around the knuckles.

for a moment, the two of them both just sit there, with mike perched on tim’s legs, tim sheathed in him, both of them catching their breath in a second’s pause. the hand tim still has on his face strokes over his cheekbone. ‘ it’s a good look on you, handsome. ‘

g-d, it’s so stupid. the shit-eating grin on tim’s face shows he _knows_ it’s stupid. and yet mike can’t help but feel a brief swell in his chest for the compliment. he regrets ever letting tim discover that particular weakness. ‘ shut _up,_ ‘ he groans.

tim raises an eyebrow, and mike doesn’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his _make me_ before their mouths are locked together. he wedges his knees under himself for some better leverage, to push himself slowly up, just to sink back down onto him. he can feel the head of tim’s cock drag against him, tugging against aching muscle, and it sends heat throbbing almost painfully between his legs.

he takes tim’s wrist of the hand that had been cradling his face, and manhandles it, albeit a little clumsily with the angle, to press against his cock. tim is, thankfully, obliging enough, rubbing him gently with his thumb as mike sinks down again on shaking thighs. ‘ bossy tonight, aren’t we? ‘ he asks, very cheerfully ignoring the sweat-streaked glare mike levels at him.

it’s easy enough to fall into a rhythm, after that. mike pushing himself up on his thin legs, rolling back onto tim slowly becoming the grip of tim’s hands on his hips, helping guide him down onto his thrusts, pulling him flush against his hips. tim’s hand, thumbing over his cock, gently kneading it between two of his knuckles, the calloused pad of his thumb dragging over the sensitive skin. mike’s hands going from resting on tim’s shoulders to flung over them to clutching onto him, face buried in the crook of his shoulder and neck as tim thrusts into him in earnest, punctuated by the slide of mike’s own arousal over his cock, dragged by tim’s fingers.

tim comes first. it isn’t the first time that mike has felt tim come underneath him, but there is something much different about this. about feeling the way tim’s nails dig red furrows into his back, on either side of his spine. about the heat that fills him in pulses. what the sound feels like, when tim’s mouth is against his throat. it’s not a few seconds later that mike is following, grinding desperately against tim’s hand on his cock. the noise he makes is an ugly thing, a pleading kind of whine.

they sit there for another few moments to catch their breath, before tim slowly pulls out, come and lubricant leaking down the back of mike’s legs. ‘ we need to shower, ‘ mike gripes immediately, making a face as he shifts, and tim huffs out a laugh, pulls him up. ( a possibly necessary precaution. mike’s legs feel like he’s spent a week on the roughest seas. )

**Author's Note:**

> look this isnt even all that great but like a lot of the explicit tag in tma is . .. . . . . . . . . how do u say . . . . . Bad right now so i figured i might as well toss smt normal in? anyway here's wonderwall


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